


I Get Ideas

by ThisWasInevitable



Series: Falling [7]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sexual Roleplay, could be read as minor dubcon within roleplay, genre fiction as inspiration, perilously close to PWP, please read note if you're concerned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: Inspired by a scene from Indrids favorite book series, Duck and Indrid experiment with some new roles.





	I Get Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> After this fic, I'm considering posting a western AU , which is apparently a thing being discussed on a Discord (it's already inspired one really awesome fic). I've been playing with the plot for it and have something I like that works for our boys. So if that's something you're into a) watch this space and b)let me know so I have some idea if folks would actually read it.
> 
> Content notes:
> 
> -Duck and Indrid decide to roleplay their take on a scene from the western romance series Indrid likes. The scene involves Indrid being "caught" by Duck, who intends to turn him in to the Men in Black after realizing he's Indrid Cold. As with previous roleplays, they speak a little differently than I normally write them. They have sex, with Indrid handcuffed the entire time. They explicitly state even within the roleplay that Indrid isn't using sex as a bargaining tool, but is instead just really horny for Duck, but I tagged as dubcon for folks who need to avoid any hint of that kind of scenario.
> 
> -Indrid gets overwhelmed towards the end of things, causing Duck to end the scene, but aftercare is shown.

_After four days of riding, Sheriff Ellis has finally caught up to his quarry. Their elegant dance of cat and mouse ends here, he swears it._

_He knows Elliot Frost well, knows his habits and his heartbeat, and most of all knows how to get the drop on the man._

_He lies in wait for an eternity behind a boulder, the thunder of the river matching the thunder of his heart._

_When he risks a glance around, he’s met by the sight of Frost at the rivers edge. He’s without his shirt, pale hair glinting in the light of the setting sun. His back is against a rock as he shaves his face. Ellis knows he’s holding a small mirror with a dual purpose: vanity and security, as he watches the space behind his back with every pass of the razor. Ellis learned long ago not to approach from behind; he’s spent years finding the blind spots._

_“Alright Frost, hands at the sky.” He steps from his hiding spot, his Colt pointed squarely at the other mans chest._

_Frost starts, then smiles as he sees Ellis. He calmly brings his hands up. Stays seated, long legs stretched out in front of him._

_“Mighty ungentleman-like of you, ambushin' a fella when he’s half-exposed. How long did you sit and admire the view?”_

_“Not gonna dignify that with a comment. An’ drop the razor, I ain’t fallin' for that one again.”_

_A thud and a puff of dirt as the razor meets the ground. Ellis begins moving closer, waves his gun up and down to indicate Frost should stand. He does, arms still safely where Ellis can watch them._

_“Turn around, slow.”_

_“That anyway to greet an old friend?”_

_“We ain’t friends, never have been.”_

_Frost turns with a laugh, low and dangerous as a rattlesnake._

_“You’re right, I suppose we were much more than that. You must admit we had some wild days before you settled down into that little town of yours.”_

_“Hands behind you.” Ellis grunts._

_“And the nights were wilder than the days. Wouldn’t you agree?”_

_“You already know the answer to that, smug bastard.” He begins to pull a rope across Frosts wrists._

_“And for your information, that ‘little town’ is under my protection as sheriff, and your fool self decided to rob a bank there knowin' that. I swear Frost, it’s like you wanted to get-”_

_He’s cut off by Frost turning sharply to catch his nose with his elbow. He loses his footing, almost loses his man, but he yanks on the rope with everything he can muster, bringing them both crashing to the ground._

_They twist and turn in the dirt, each trying to get the upper hand, but it’s Ellis who manages to pin Frost the ground with his hands firmly behind his back. His hands press Frosts' shoulder-blades into the red dirt, one knee planted on the ground and the other on the outlaws' stomach._

_Frost grins up at him, licks across his lips, now split by a well-placed knuckle from Ellis. Even trapped like this, confidence rolls off him in waves, and he’s still achingly, aggravatingly, intoxicatingly handsome._

_Ellis leans forward, brings their faces as close as he dares._

_“This what you wanted, Elliot? Wanted me to catch you an’ rough you up because you know that’s the only way I’ll ever dirty my hands touchin' a crooked coward like you?”_

_Frosts' expression goes as cold as his name._

_“Coward? Now I don’t take kindly to that. Would a coward do this?” Lighting quick, he closes the space between them, captures Ellis’ lips with his own, the taste of him alone enough to spur Ellis to move, to tangle his hands in that wild hair and pull him closer…_

“Gettin' to a good part?” Duck crawls under the covers next to Indrid.

“Yeep!” The skinnier man jumps, accidentally sends his paperback copy of “Red Dust on His Soul” flying onto the floor.

“Gonna take that as a yes. That and the fact I asked you somethin' two times and you didn’t seem to hear. Usually you only get that focused on somethin' when we’re foolin' around.”

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” He snuggles in next to Duck sheepishly.

“Ain’t a big deal, was just askin' if Winnie had been fed, then saw the note you left. You’re still blushin' by the way.” He wraps an arm around Indrid, runs his hand fondly up and down his side. 

“I was, ahem, getting to one of my favorite scenes of the series.”

“Which is?”

“Rather intense. The heroes, who share a torrid and complex past, end up having to spend several days in a cabin with one another due to a storm. As it’s a romance novel, it does not take prophetic powers to guess what happens next.”

“They fuck?”

“Quite a bit. But because one is technically under arrest by the other, he is restrained the entire time. The other uses the opportunity to, um, torment him a bit, leave him unsatisfied after riling him up, as you would put it. Although it’s quite clear that’s part of the fun for the one who is captive.” 

“Damn darlin', you weren’t kiddin'.”

“You think it sounds good too.”

“Took the words right outta my mouth. Literally.” He turns his head, kisses Indrids’ temple. 

“Wanna tell me what I say next?”

“On three. One, two, three.”

“I know what we’re doing Friday night.” They each say to the other with a grin. 

\------------------------------------------------

Indrid Cold opens his eyes. He is staring at the white Spackle of a ceiling. 

This is odd, given that the last thing he remembers is being in a car

He goes stretch his arms, only to find them trapped behind his back. This is less than ideal. 

He rolls over, sits up on what he now realizes is a bed. Well, it was really only a matter of time before someone figured out who he was and what they could get if they turned him over to the right people. But he hadn’t pegged the driver of the car who picked him up off the roadside and introduced himself as simply, “Duck” as that someone, and as a result he’d allowed himself to fall asleep listening to his pleasant drawl. That’s the last time he does that, that’s for sure.

It’s a pity, he actually rather liked Duck. And it’s not like he was opposed to being handcuffed; he just usually liked to be asked first. But Duck had clearly decided he didn’t want to risk an altercation.

“Evenin', sleepin' beauty.”

Speak of the devil.

Duck leans on the door frame of the bedroom, staring at Indrid with a casual air. He’s in an undershirt and slacks, the only remaining indicator of the uniform he’d been wearing earlier. Indrid takes advantage of their standoff to enjoy the view: he’s built just the way Indrid likes, plenty of muscle but plenty of soft places too, with lovely dark hair that he is aching to get his hands into. He’d been intending to ask if Duck was interested in pulling over so Indrid could thank him for the ride in a rather indecent way. But he’s guessing that someone looking to turn him in is not going to be interested in passing the time that way.

But it’s worth asking. 

He’s about to do just that when Duck speaks. 

“I know I don’t look like the sharpest tool in the shed, but I know that strange things happen round these parts. Like a man with a wide smile and white hair who hitchhikes on dark, rainy nights and calls himself Indrid Cold. And I also happen to know that there are folks in black in this town who’ve been lookin' for that person and are willin' to pay for him.”

“How observant.”

“Yeah, well, problem is I can’t get a hold of any of those folks because the storm knocked out the damn power. And knowin' Kepler, it’s liable to stay down for a bit. Not to mention the roads are startin' to flood.”

“So what you’re saying is I may be your guest for awhile?”

“Uh huh.” Duck runs a hand through his hair, scratches the back of his neck. Nerves. Interesting.

“You have no idea what to with me do you?” 

Duck glares at him.

“I have plenty of ideas. For starters, I oughta check to make sure you don’t got anythin' on you that you can use to get out of here.”

Duck kneels in front of Indrid, works his hands quickly up both of his legs. Climbs onto the bed to check the rest of him. They’re close enough that Indrid can see he’s blushing. He waits until Duck is positioned somewhat awkwardly, trying to keep an eye on Indrids' feet while frisking the rest of him, and not paying attention to what Indrids' head is doing. Slowly, he closes the remaining distance between them and places a soft kiss at the juncture of Ducks neck and shoulder.

He freezes with little gasp. Indrid kisses him twice more, before nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.

“What are you doin'?” He doesn’t sound afraid, just perplexed.

“Suggesting a way we could pass the time.”

“This ain’t gonna make me untie you, you know.”

“I assumed as much.” He nips at Ducks ear.

“Look, uh, Mr. Cold.”

“Indrid.”

“Look, Indrid, I’m flattered, well, um, fuck, more than flattered, and I’m awful interested but I ain’t gonna do anythin' with you if you’re thinkin' it’ll make me turn you loose. Wouldn’t feel right, takin' advantage of you like that.”

“I’m under no impression that this will change my situation. I’d simply like to spend my final hours not stuck in some government facility doing something I enjoy.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, I want you regardless of what happens afterwards.”

Duck smiles at him, then pulls him the rest of the way onto the bed with a kiss before rolling them over and straddling him. He runs a trail of kisses down Indrids' cheek and neck, rucks up his shirt so he can kiss his chest, then his stomach. By the time he reaches his hips, Indrid is moaning and Duck is babbling.

“Been wantin' to do this since I picked you up you looked so fuckin' good, didn’t think I’d get the chance, gonna make you feel so good…” he palms Indrids’ cock through his pants, making the bound man arch his back with a hiss.

“A little firmer oh yes, yes like that. Mmm, that’s what I love about humans, you’re so compliant.”

Duck stops touching him, sits up between his legs.

“Compliant? You under the impression you’re the one callin' the shots here?”

“Perhaps.” He grins

“Think we’ll have to do somethin' about that.”

It takes some doing, but he yanks Indrids' shirt off and over his head (in reality they pause so Indrid can unclip the link between cuffs so Duck can pull the shirt off, and he pecks Duck happily on the cheek as reclips them). Indrid is propped halfway up on the pillows as Duck sits back on his heels, unzipps his pants and pulls out his cock. He begins rapidly stroking himself, and Indrid is transfixed by the sight. Duck notices his staring and laughs.

“Naw, this ain’t for you, least not right now. Maybe if you’re, what was the word you used, compliant, I’ll let you suck it later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

“We’ll see. For now I just wanna, oh fuck, look at that charmin', odd face of yours while I com-oh shit!” He tilts his head back with a groan, and Indrid wants desperately to bite and suck his away across that neck as he feels come hit his stomach. 

Duck takes a second to collect himself before sliding off the bed, returning a moment later with a damp cloth. He cleans Indrid off, seemingly ignoring the needy thrusts Indrid makes every times he touches him.

“Whelp, I gotta go do some chores. You stay put.”

“You’re leaving me like this.” Indrid says with a mixture of arousal and desperation.

“For now. We’ll see how generous I’m feelin' later. Besides, I’m middle-aged. Gonna take me a bit to recover enough if I want to come fuck you.” He kisses Indrid teasingly before disappearing from the room. 

He can be patient. It’s simply a matter of mind over body.

Forty-five minutes later, it’s his mind that’s causing him trouble. His body has wound down a bit, but his brain keeps focusing on Duck and all the things he could do to him. 

Cautiously, he rolls onto his stomach. Begins grinding against the bed, biting into the blanket to avoid making too much noise. He’s close, can feel his orgasm building when a voice from the door makes him freeze.

“That don’t look like behavin' yourself.”

A firm hand grabs his shoulder, flips him over, and Indrid can’t help the noise of frustration that escapes him. 

“Aw, don’t look so sad, I was comin' in to give you a gift. But now I think I gotta make you wait more.”

“You son of-” Duck kisses him before he can finish the curse.

“Tell ya what, you go ten more minutes without cussin' me out or tryin' to get off without permission, and I’ll let you suck me off.”

Indrid perks up.

“Deal.”

Duck sits down in the chair in the corner of the room, where Indrid can still see him. When he slips a hand into his pants, it occurs to Indrid that he’s chosen that location not just to watch, but to be watched. 

And watch Indrid does, for ten of the longest minutes of his life, as Duck lazily strokes himself, occasionally letting out soft moans. By the time pulls a condom from a nearby drawer and slips it on Indrid is ready to explode.

“Times up. Come over here.” He waves a hand and Indrid is off the bed and on his knees in front of him in a flash, licking his way eagerly up and down the shaft before swallowing as much of it as he can. Duck is rolling his hips carefully, one hand tangled in Indrids' hair.

“That’s it, goddamn your mouth feels good.”

Indrid purrs, pleased at the compliment. The hand in his hair tightens and he sucks harder, faster, until Ducks thrusts stutter and then stop entirely. He pulls his mouth away, but keeps his head resting in the warmth of Ducks lap as calloused fingers stroke his head and neck.

“That was awful nice. Almost nice enough to convince me to let you come. But not quite.”

Indrid sighs happily, enjoying the gentle touches too much to be disappointed. It’s clear Duck intends to test his limits. The night is shaping up to be one of exquisite torment. And he couldn’t be more pleased.

\-------------------------------------------------

Awhile later, Indrid is stretched out on the bed, panting and shaking as Duck, now stripped of all his clothes, works three fingers into him. He gives a low moan when they withdraw.

“C’mere, sit in my lap.”

Duck helps Indrid into position so he can sink down onto his cock with a grateful shudder. He works his hips up and down, until he finds the angle and pressure that make Indrid cry out. He brings a hand in between them, thumbs over the head that’s soaked in pre-cum. 

“Think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, please, please, Duck, sweetheart, oh please.” It comes out as a sob, and Indrid realizes he has tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. Duck stills his hips, brings his hands to cup Indrids’ cheeks so he can look at him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay darlin'. Here.” He unclips the cuffs, guides Indrids' arms to wrap around his shoulders, and Indrid immediately clings to him.

“I got you. Think we oughta call quits on that, er, scene?”

Indrid nods.

“Want me to finish you off gentle?”

Another nod. Ducks hand begins stroking him, soft and slow. Indrid buries his face against his neck as Ducks' free hand runs comfortingly up and down his thigh.

“Like that?”

He manages to get a small, pleased chirp out this time.

He’s been wound so tight for so long it doesn’t take much coaxing before he spills all over Ducks fist. Duck carefully eases him off his lap and back onto the bed.

“What about your?” He indicates Ducks' crotch.

“Twice in one night is plenty. It’ll go away on its’ own. Right now I got more important things to worry about, like drawin' you a bath and rubbin' those knots outta your shoulders.”

Indrid stretches, feels his back twinge.

“Yes, in retrospect I should’ve asked for more breaks to loosen my arms up. I suppose we can remember that if we do something like that again” He takes the hand Duck offers to pull himself off the bed.

“I’m sorry I got overwhelmed. I saw it coming a few moments too late.”

“No need to apologize, darlin'. Only want to do those rougher things if we’re both havin' fun. Hell, we could go back to only ever makin' out for the rest of my life and I’d still die happy.” He kisses Indrid, begins leading him towards the bathroom.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Indrid asks dreamily.

“No kiddin'. You get any more ideas from that book, you let me know.”

Indrid stops, pulls Duck towards him for a hug that quickly becomes a kiss as well. Pulls away with a grin.

“Well, now that you mention it….”


End file.
